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The Nimbus wind project in the Ozark Mountains is moving forward even without species permits, while locals pray Trump will shut it down.

The state of Arkansas is quickly becoming an important bellwether for the future of renewable energy deployment in the U.S., and a single project in the state’s famed Ozark Mountains might be the big fight that decides which way the state’s winds blow.
Arkansas has not historically been a renewables-heavy state, and very little power there is generated from solar or wind today. But after passage of the Inflation Reduction Act, the state saw a surge in project development, with more than 1.5 gigawatts of mostly utility-scale solar proposed in 2024, according to industry data. The state also welcomed its first large wind farm that year.
As in other states – Oklahoma and Arizona, for example – this spike in development led to a fresh wave of opposition and grassroots organizing against development. At least six Arkansas counties currently have active moratoria on solar or wind development, according to Heatmap Pro data. Unlike other states, Arkansas has actually gone there this year by passing a law restricting wind development and requiring all projects to have minimum setbacks on wind turbines from neighboring property owners of at least 3.5-times the height of the wind turbine itself, which can be as far as a quarter of a mile.
But activists on the ground still want more. Specifically, they want to stop Scout Clean Energy’s Nimbus wind project, which appears to have evaded significant barriers from either the new state law or a local ordinance blocking future wind development in Carroll County, the project’s future home. This facility is genuinely disliked by many on the ground in Carroll County; for weeks now, I have been monitoring residents posting to Facebook with updates on the movements of wind turbine components and their impacts to traffic. I’ve also seen the grumbling about it travel from the mouths of residents living near the project site to conservative social media influencers and influential figures in conservative energy policy circles.
The Nimbus project is also at considerable risk of federal intervention in some fashion. As I wrote about a few weeks ago, Nimbus applied to the Fish and Wildlife Service for incidental take approval covering golden eagles and endangered bats throughout the course of its operation. This turned into a multi-year effort to craft a conservation plan in tandem with permitting applications that are all pending approval from federal officials.
Scout Clean Energy still had not received permission by the time FWS changed hands to Trump 2.0, though – putting not only its permit but the project itself in potential legal risk. In addition, activists have recently seized upon risks floated by the Defense Department during development around the potential for the turbines to negatively impact radar capabilities, which previously resulted in the developer planning towers of varying heights for the blades.
These risks aren’t unique to Nimbus. Some of this is a reflection of how wind projects are generally so large and impactful that they wind up eventually landing in a federal nexus. But in this particular case, the fact that it seemed nothing could halt this project made me wonder if Trump was on the minds of people in Carroll County, too.
That’s how I wound up on the phone with Caroline Rogers, a woman living on Bradshaw Mountain near the Nimbus project site, who told me she has been fighting it since she first learned about it in 2023. Rogers and I chatted for almost an hour and, candidly, I found her to be an incredibly nice individual. When I asked her why she’s against the wind farm, she brought up a bunch of reasons I couldn’t necessarily fault her for, like concerns about property values and a lack of local civil services to support the community if there were a turbine failure or fire at the site.
“I still pray every day,” she told me when I asked her about whether she wants an outside force – à la Trump – to come in and do something to stop the facility. “There have been projects that have been stopped for various reasons, and there have been turbines that have been taken down.”
One of the things Rogers hopes happens is that the Fish and Wildlife Service’s bird crackdown comes for the Nimbus project, which is under construction even as it’s unclear whether it’ll ever get the take permits under the Trump administration. “Maybe it can be more of an enforcement [action],” she told me. “I hope it happens.”
This is where Trump’s unprecedented approach to energy development – and the curtailment of it – would have to cross a new rubicon. The Fish and Wildlife Service has rarely exercised its bird protection enforcement abilities against wind projects because of a significant and recent backlog in the permitting process related to applications from the sector. Bill Eubanks, an environmental attorney who works on renewables conflicts, told me earlier this week that if a developer is told by the agency it needs a permit, then “they’re on notice if they kill an eagle.” But while enforcement powers have been used before, it is “not that common.”
Even Rogers knows intervention from federal species regulators would be a potentially unprecedented step. “It can never stop a project that I’ve seen,” she told me.
Yet if Trump were to empower FWS to go after wind projects for violating species statutes, it is precisely this backlog that would make projects like Nimbus a potential target.
“They got so many applications from developers, and each one takes so much staff time to finalize,” Eubanks told me. “Even before January 20, there was already a significant backlog.”
Scout Clean Energy did not respond to requests for comment. If I hear from them or the Fish and Wildlife Service, I will let you know.
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It’s aware of the problem. That doesn’t make it easier to solve.
The data center backlash has metastasized into a full-blown PR crisis, one the tech sector is trying to get out in front of. But it is unclear whether companies are responding effectively enough to avoid a cascading series of local bans and restrictions nationwide.
Our numbers don’t lie: At least 25 data center projects were canceled last year, and nearly 100 projects faced at least some form of opposition, according to Heatmap Pro data. We’ve also recorded more than 60 towns, cities and counties that have enacted some form of moratorium or restrictive ordinance against data center development. We expect these numbers to rise throughout the year, and it won’t be long before the data on data center opposition is rivaling the figures on total wind or solar projects fought in the United States.
I spent this week reviewing the primary motivations for conflict in these numerous data center fights and speaking with representatives of the data center sector and relevant connected enterprises, like electrical manufacturing. I am now convinced that the industry knows it has a profound challenge on its hands. Folks are doing a lot to address it, from good-neighbor promises to lobbying efforts at the state and federal level. But much more work will need to be done to avoid repeating mistakes that have bedeviled other industries that face similar land use backlash cycles, such as fossil fuel extraction, mining, and renewable energy infrastructure development.
Two primary issues undergird the data center mega-backlash we’re seeing today: energy use fears and water consumption confusion.
Starting with energy, it’s important to say that data center development currently correlates with higher electricity rates in areas where projects are being built, but the industry challenges the presumption that it is solely responsible for that phenomenon. In the eyes of opponents, utilities are scrambling to construct new power supplies to meet projected increases in energy demand, and this in turn is sending bills higher.
That’s because, as I’ve previously explained, data centers are getting power in two ways: off the existing regional electric grid or from on-site generation, either from larger new facilities (like new gas plants or solar farms) or diesel generators for baseload, backup purposes. But building new power infrastructure on site takes time, and speed is the name of the game right now in the AI race, so many simply attach to the existing grid.
Areas with rising electricity bills are more likely to ban or restrict data center development. Let’s just take one example: Aurora, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago and the second most-populous city in the state. Aurora instituted a 180-day moratorium on data center development last fall after receiving numerous complaints about data centers from residents, including a litany related to electricity bills. More than 1.5 gigawatts of data center capacity already operate in the surrounding Kane County, where residential electricity rates are at a three-year high and expected to increase over the near term – contributing to a high risk of opposition against new projects.
The second trouble spot is water, which data centers need to cool down their servers. Project developers have face a huge hurdle in the form of viral stories of households near data centers who suddenly lack a drop to drink. Prominent examples activists bring up include this tale of a family living next to a Meta facility in Newton County, Georgia, and this narrative of people living around an Amazon Web Services center in St. Joseph County, Indiana. Unsurprisingly, the St. Joseph County Council rejected a new data center in response to, among other things, very vocal water concerns. (It’s worth noting that the actual harm caused to water systems by data centers is at times both over- and under-stated, depending on the facility and location.)
“I think it’s very important for the industry as a whole to be honest that living next to [a data center] is not an ideal situation,” said Caleb Max, CEO of the National Artificial Intelligence Association, a new D.C.-based trade group launched last year that represents Oracle and myriad AI companies.
Polling shows that data centers are less popular than the use of artificial intelligence overall, Max told me, so more needs to be done to communicate the benefits that come from their development – including empowering AI. “The best thing the industry could start to do is, for the people in these zip codes with the data centers, those people need to more tangibly feel the benefits of it.”
Many in the data center development space are responding quickly to these concerns. Companies are clearly trying to get out ahead on energy, with the biggest example arriving this week from Microsoft, which pledged to pay more for the electricity it uses to power its data centers. “It’s about balancing that demand and market with these concerns. That’s why you're seeing the industry lean in on these issues and more proactively communicating with communities,” said Dan Diorio, state policy director for the Data Center Coalition.
There’s also an effort underway to develop national guidance for data centers led by the National Electrical Manufacturers Association, the American Society of Heating, Refrigerating, and Air-Conditioning Engineers, and the Pacific Northwest National Laboratory, expected to surface publicly by this summer. Some of the guidance has already been published, such as this document on energy storage best practices, which is intended to help data centers know how to properly use solutions that can avoid diesel generators, an environmental concern in communities. But the guidance will ultimately include discussions of cooling, too, which can be a water-intensive practice.
“It’s a great example of an instance where industry is coming together and realizing there’s a need for guidance. There’s a very rapidly developing sector here that uses electricity in a fundamentally different way, that’s almost unprecedented,” Patrick Hughes, senior vice president of strategy, technical, and industry affairs for NEMA, told me in an interview Monday.
Personally, I’m unsure whether these voluntary efforts will be enough to assuage the concerns of local officials. It certainly isn’t convincing folks like Jon Green, a member of the Board of Supervisors in Johnson County, Iowa. Johnson County is a populous area, home to the University of Iowa campus, and Green told me that to date it hasn’t really gotten any interest from data center developers. But that didn’t stop the county from instituting a one-year moratorium in 2025 to block projects and give time for them to develop regulations.
I asked Green if there’s a form of responsible data center development. “I don’t know if there is, at least where they’re going to be economically feasible,” he told me. “If we say they’ve got to erect 40 wind turbines and 160 acres of solar in order to power a data center, I don’t know if when they do their cost analysis that it’ll pencil out.”
Plus a storage success near Springfield, Massachusetts, and more of the week’s biggest renewables fights.
1. Sacramento County, California – A large solar farm might go belly-up thanks to a fickle utility and fears of damage to old growth trees.
2. Hampden County, Massachusetts – The small Commonwealth city of Agawam, just outside of Springfield, is the latest site of a Massachusetts uproar over battery storage…
3. Washtenaw County, Michigan – The city of Saline southwest of Detroit is now banning data centers for at least a year – and also drafting regulations around renewable energy.
4. Dane County, Wisconsin – Another city with a fresh data center moratorium this week: Madison, home of the Wisconsin Badgers.
5. Hood County, Texas – Last but not least, I bring you one final stop on the apparent data center damnation tour: Hood County, south of the Texas city of Fort Worth.
A conversation with San Jose State University researcher Ivano Aiello, who’s been studying the aftermath of the catastrophe at Moss Landing.
This week’s conversation is with Ivano Aiello, a geoscientist at San Jose State University in California. I interviewed Aiello a year ago, when I began investigating the potential harm caused by the battery fire at Vistra’s Moss Landing facility, perhaps the largest battery storage fire of all time. The now-closed battery plant is located near the university, and Aiello happened to be studying a nearby estuary and wildlife habitat when the fire took place. He was therefore able to closely track metals contamination from the site. When we last spoke, he told me that he was working on a comprehensive, peer-reviewed study of the impacts of the fire.
That research was recently published and has a crucial lesson: We might not be tracking the environmental impacts of battery storage fires properly.
The following conversation was lightly edited for clarity.
Alright let’s start from the top – please tell my readers what your study ultimately found.
The bottom line is that we detected deposition of fine airborne particles, cathode material – nickel, manganese, and cobalt – in the area surrounding the battery storage facility. We found those particles right after the fire, immediately detected them in the field, sampled the soils, and found visible presence of those particles using different techniques. We kept measuring the location in the field over several months after the fire.
The critical thing is, we had baseline data. We had been surveying those areas for much longer before the fire. Those metals were in much higher concentration than they were before, and they were clearly related to the batteries. You can see that. And we were able to see changes in surface concentrations in the soils over time, including from weather – once the rains started, there was a significant decrease in concentrations of the metals, potentially related to runoff. Some of them migrated to the soil.
What we also noticed is that the protocols that have been used to look at soil contamination call for a surface sample of 3 inches. If your sample thickness is that and the layer of metal deposit is 1 millimeter or 5 millimeter, you’re not going to see anything. If you use standard protocols, you’re not going to find anything.
What does that mean for testing areas around big battery storage fires?
That’s exactly what I hope this work helps with. Procedures designed in the past are for different types of disasters and incidents which are more like landslides than ash fallout from a fire. These metal particles are a few microns thick, so they slide easily away.
It means we have to rethink how we go about measuring contamination after industrial fires and, yes, battery fires. Because otherwise it’s just completely useless – you’re diluting everything.
The other thing we learned is that ashfall deposits are very patchy. You can get different samples between a few feet and find huge differences. You can’t just go out there and take three samples in three places, you have to sample at a much higher resolution because otherwise you’ll miss the whole story.
When it comes to the takeaways from this study, what exactly do you think the lessons should be for the battery companies and regulators involved?
There are a lot of lessons we learned from this fire. The first is that having baseline data around a potential fire site is important because then you can better understand the after.
Then, the main way to assess the potential hazards during the fire and after the fire are air quality measurements. That doesn’t tell you what’s in the air. You could have a high concentration of pollen, and then you know the quality of the air, but if you replace that with metal it is different. It’s not just how much you’re breathing, but what you are breathing.
Also, fast response. [Vistra] just released a report on soil saying there was nothing … but the sampling was done eight months after the fire. Our study shows after the fire you have this pulse of dust, and then it moves. Stuff moves to soil, across habitat. So if you don’t go out there right away, you might miss the whole thing.
Finally, what we found was that the fallout from the fire was not a bullseye pattern centered at the facility but rather offset kilometers away because of the wind.
We didn’t know much about this before because we didn’t have a real case study. This is the first real live event in which we can actually see the effects of a large battery burning.